Snapshots: Chronicling Dr Reid
by criminalxxxmindsxxxfreak
Summary: A series of oneshots detailing the life of our favorite Dr. Spencer Reid. Starting with his father's abandonment and moving foward. No pairings as of now. Rated T for mentions of bullying, violence, drug use and language. Irregularly and infrequently updated. COMPLETED, for now. Potential for new Snapshots is low, but still there.
1. Gone But Not Forgiven

**A/N: This is the first oneshot 'series' I've ever written… I hope you guys enjoy reading it!**

**It's going to be exactly what the title says it is: a series of connected oneshots chronicling the life of our favorite doctor, Spencer Reid ;)**

**I'm starting with his childhood and moving on through his early life, to joining the FBI and everything else in his life. This is how I think it all happened. In later oneshots, there will be mentions of Reid's drug use, his kidnap in Georgia, his fear of developing schizophrenia and his evolving relationship with the team.**

**Also, this isn't like my other stories where I update every day or every other day. Maybe once every week or once every couple of weeks. We'll see how it goes.**

**Well, now I'll stop babbling and let you get on with it.**

**Please review! Your comments and criticisms mean the world to me guys!**

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_"Children begin by loving their parents. As they grow older, they judge them. Rarely, if ever, do they forgive them."  
><em>**~Oscar Wilde**

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_**Gone But Not Forgiven**_

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Spencer Reid woke up that morning like any other morning. The faint, grey light of the new dawn filtering into his bedroom window through the thin blue curtains that hung there. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling of his room, the glowing stars that had been stuck there since he was five slightly blurry and out of focus without his glasses on. He yawned and rolled over, long fingers, especially for a ten year old child, reaching out blindly for his round glasses.

As he pushed them over his ears and onto his face, the world around him solidified and he pushed the blankets back, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and letting them dangle there for a moment before standing and padding his way downstairs to the kitchen. Just like every other morning. It was Saturday, which meant, thankfully, no school. Spencer loved to learn, honestly, but he found school tediously boring and not unlike torture. He was far ahead of his classmates already, but there wasn't much a public school system could do for a child like him. But he could deal with the mind numbing school work. It was the bullies he didn't like.

No, the weekends were his sanctuary. His forty-eight brief and blissful hours of peace. He could sit in his room and read, or, better yet, spend countless hours listening to his mother read from one of the many books she had recently taught on in her Fifteenth Century Literature class. He never tired of his mother's voice. It was one of the few things that kept the nightmares at bay. It soothed him.

Diana wasn't awake when the child made his way downstairs, but that wasn't unusual either. She usually slept in; her medication kept her asleep much of the time. He just hoped that today would be a lucid day. He hated when his weekends were spoiled by his mother's 'condition', as his father like to put it. Spencer was smart enough to know his father was somewhat embarrassed by his mother's 'condition', though he couldn't fathom why.

William had known Diana was Schizophrenic before he married her. He had loved her. Spencer knew he had, he could see that love in old photographs his parents still kept out on the mantle. But most of Spencer's earliest memories were of his parents fighting. Sometimes, he wondered what had happened to their love, if it had run its course and was over for good. Other times he wondered if it was his fault. Before he had been born, they were clearly happy. But ever since, it seem that things were falling apart.

The thought that he was the cause, the catalyst that had sent his parents' marriage into turmoil, brought immense guilt to the child's shoulders. Perhaps if he were more normal, more like the other kids in the neighborhood who like the play tee-ball and chase each other around on their bicycles… perhaps then his father and mother wouldn't fight anymore. He really didn't know. One thing he did know was that his father wanted him to be as normal as possible. He always had.

And Spencer tried; God knows that he had tried. But he couldn't seem to find it in him to be 'normal'. He wasn't even quite sure what 'normal' was. Sighing to himself, very adult thoughts spinning around in his young mind, Spencer entered the bright kitchen and opened the pantry to fix himself a bowl of cereal. His large brown eyes fell onto an envelope, however, and he froze.

It was sitting in the middle of the counter, white and crisp and clean. Nothing remarkable about it at all, but Spencer somehow sensed that that one lone envelope would be life altering.

Eyes round behind his spectacles, Spencer approached the envelope as if it were a bomb, his thin fingers reaching out to pluck it from the counter. It wasn't sealed, and his name was scrawled across the top of it in familiar handwriting. His father's handwriting. The young boy swallowed heavily as his shook the folded sheet out paper out and took it into his shaking hands, reading the words that would be forever etched into his mind:

_"Spencer,_

_I'm sorry I didn't wait until morning, but I couldn't waste another moment. I couldn't face you or your mother. I never wanted to do this, but I can't be the father I should any longer. I'm so terribly sorry, son, but I'm sure you'll be alright. You're smart; you can take care of your mother._

_I don't know how to explain myself, I'm not really sure that it's possible come to think of it. But I guess I should try at least… I love you and your mother very much. I always will, Spencer, don't forget that. But I can't do it. I can't wake up every morning and face this reality, it's too much. I'm sorry. I've done all that I know how to do to make things right, to keep us together, but it's obviously not working. Everything seems to be falling apart in my hands and I can't take this burden any longer._

_I want you to remember the good times, Spencer. Your mother and I, we didn't always fight like this. But that seems like a lifetime away and I wake up every morning feeling like I'm living someone else's life and it's just not working anymore. I know you don't understand now, but maybe you will one day. Maybe you'll even forgive me. I hope you do, it's not worth it to continue hating me, it'll eat away at you and I don't want to do that._

_I hope you can forgive me, Spencer. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to hurt your mother but this is how it has to be. You'll understand, I'm sure. This is for the best._

_I love you Spencer._

_Goodbye."_

Spencer's hands shook as a sob threatened to work its way out of his throat. His fingers clenched the paper tighter with each word, until the edges were creased and torn. He stared down at the letter for much longer, lost in his own thoughts. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel… Hurt. Angry. Bitter. Resentful. Guilty. Numb.

That last one seemed to fit the bill. His blood sat languid and frozen in his veins, his body stiff as a stone. The only indication that he hadn't truly been petrified on the spot was the slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out.

It took several minutes for the contents of the letter to truly hit him. His father was gone. Gone and not coming back. Not ever. That thought, that realization, dropped into his stomach like a lead ball. His own father had abandoned him with a mentally ill mother and he expected him to understand? To forgive him?

And just like that, the languid, frozen blood in his veins seared with fury and he crumpled the letter between his fingers viciously, throwing it into the garbage. His throat was tight from holding back sobs as he stood in the kitchen, furious anger bubbling inside of him. He couldn't believe that his father would do that to him. To his mother. Just walk out and not look back, not even stop to say goodbye. Couldn't he have at least given him that much? Was a goodbye really too much to ask for after ten years of parenthood?

Apparently so.

Spencer's breathing was shaky and he thought desperately of some way to distract himself. Something. Anything. He walked on stiff legs toward the pantry again and pulled out the box of cereal, pouring himself a bowl, but staring at it dejectedly rather than actually eating anything.

He wasn't quite sure how long he sat there, but the cereal had grown soggy and the milk warm and unsavory. He was startled out of his pensive state by faint footfalls on the stairs and he looked up a moment later to see a bleary-eyed Diana Reid smiling faintly at him from the kitchen door.

"He's gone, isn't he?" she asked quietly.

Spencer nodded stiffly, not bothering to ask how his mother knew. She always knew.

Diana sighed heavily, looking down at the floor, her eyes sad and depressed. She expected this. In fact, she was surprised William hadn't left sooner than he had. But the least he could've done was take Spencer. She loved her son, with every nerve in her body, but she knew she couldn't take care of him the way she should. Mental illness didn't just go away and even on her best days, she couldn't be a proper mother. She was smart enough to realize that. But William, blind fool that he was, claimed he couldn't understand Spencer, that he had no idea how to raise him. He even once said that Spencer was practically raising himself.

And while that was all well and true, Spencer was ten years old and needed a father. She shook her head sadly and opened her arms to her young son. "Come on, Baby." She said gently. "Let me read to you…"

Spencer smiled faintly at her and slipped down from the stool, hugging his mother tightly as they entered her study down the hall and settled onto a large leather couch. She pulled a thick tome from the table and cracked the spine, gently petting Spencer's hair before beginning to read.

Spencer sat, on the verge of tears, in his mother's arms for hours. He felt safe here, warm and protected. He knew his mother couldn't always provide the most stable of homes, but he also knew that she loved him, and that was enough for the moment. Even if his father didn't care, someone did. And she was all that mattered. William could leave if he wanted to, live his life in peace without worrying about the family he'd left behind. Spencer would make this work no matter what it took. He would be damned if he let his father's selfishness get in the way of his happiness.

They fell asleep like that, the book lying open across Diana's lap, Spencer's head resting gently on her shoulder. Gentle, even breaths escaped their bodies in rhythmic hums and Spencer dreamed of a happier life, a real future and a family. One day, he would have that family, he didn't know how or when, but he made himself a promise at that moment that he would have the family he wanted somehow, someway. William Reid could stay gone for as long as he wanted, Spencer would never forget what he had done. And he would never forgive him either.

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**E/N: *tears* Ah, poor little Spencer. Hope you guys enjoyed it! That was my take on how William Reid left the family and the letter he left them. I did my best to be unbiased here, but you all know I detest the man.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Next installment coming soon!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	2. Normal

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed and added this to alerts! You guys rock, seriously!**

**I know, I know, it's been a bit, but I did tell you I wasn't going to update this every day like my other stories… Plus, college is really sucking the time out of my day. But I'm managing…**

**Please review! I really appreciate all of your awesome feedback guys! It means a lot to me!**

**-OoO-oOo-OoO-**

**Normal**

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The air was cold and frigid that night, the moon invisible from its perch in the skies. The grass was wet and the smell of earth and rain was strong as the twelve year old fumbled his way to his scattered clothing on the football field, sniffling and doing his best to keep the tears at bay. It was late and the lights were off. No one had come to rescue him; no one had noticed that there was a crying child tied to the goal post of the football field in the dead of night. Or that he had been there all day, for that matter. No one of consequence, anyway. No one who cared enough to help.

Spencer didn't care. He was used to it by now. No one ever cared so it didn't bother him so much that no one came to save him. He'd lost that hope long ago. No, he was simply happy that this time there weren't any bruises to speak of. Nothing he'd have to try and hide from his mother, that is, if she were lucid enough to notice the bruises anyway and often times she wasn't.

He slid his thin arms into his wet, dirty shirt and struggled to get himself dressed as he chest tightened, his breathing was uneven from holding back sobs and his throat felt raw from the hours he'd spent begging and crying and pleading to be left alone, to be helped, to be released. But they'd all just stood there, watching and laughing like it was some joke. Like he wasn't a child, a human being with feelings and fears and numerous insecurities and hidden pains.

He'd never understood what it was about him that made his classmates want to torment him… He was smarter than they were, sure, but there were plenty of other very smart, somewhat awkward kids and they were never treated this badly. Maybe it was because he was younger than all of them by several years; maybe it was the fact that he was just a little 'off' as some people put it. Maybe it was because he was so incredibly socially inept. Or maybe it was because they knew he had no one. No father who would go to the school board and complain, no mother who was capable of defending her only child because half the time she was sunk deep into her own delusions.

Spencer was far too young to be so embittered but he was. Life had always been difficult for him and now, as he walked barefooted toward his home, fighting back tears and wondering what he had done to deserve such treatment, he felt a little part of him crack inside. How was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to react? He couldn't complain, couldn't do a damn thing about how he was being treated. No one cared.

He sniffled and thought back to the past two years since his father had left… He remembered all the horrible things that had happened in that very short span of time. Things hadn't been great when his father was around, but now that he was gone? Everything was worse.

His mother was going downhill, he knew she needed professional help but she wouldn't get it. Diana Reid was a stubborn woman when she wanted to be and she could no more give up Spencer than she could stop loving him. He wasn't enough to take care of her, to keep her sane and stable, but she insisted that she was fine. She didn't take her medication like she should, her delusions only kept getting stronger, her episodes seemed more frequent, they lasted for longer periods of time and Spencer feared that it was only a matter of time before his mother sank into that delusional world in her head and never came back. And then what would he do?

She was hardly able to work as it was, child services had miraculously not been called but Spencer was terrified that one day they would be. Diana was the best mother she could be, but often times it wasn't good enough. Not for a twelve year old in high school. Especially not when that twelve year old had his own set of issues to deal with. Having to take care of his schizophrenic mother was just another thing to add to the list.

The lights were on as he finally stumbled his way to his house. His feet were aching, bleeding a bit from the long walk across pavement and concrete, but he was home and at the moment that was all that mattered. It was after midnight but the lights were all still on and for a moment he worried that his mother had waited up for him, that she would have questions about where he had been and what had happened and he wasn't sure that he wanted to explain to her this new trauma.

He gently pushed the door open and looked around cautiously as he padded his way inside the house, listening for any sound of his mother. She didn't call out, there was no "Spencer, baby is that you?" Nothing but silence for a long stretch of time and he closed the door behind him quietly and tiptoed further into the house, his ears straining for any sound of his mother awake in the house.

A faint whimper and muttering voice caught his attention from the living room and he crept toward the space, looking around and not seeing anything or anyone at first. But another angry sounding voice turned his head toward the corner of the room.

"No… go away. Get away from me!"

It was his mother. She was huddled on the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, her blue eyes distant. They weren't focused on Spencer but rather a spot somewhere directly in front of her. In her hands was a small knife from the kitchen, shaking slightly in her trembling grip as she held the weapon out like a shield, eyes dancing around the room fearfully.

The young boy's heart fell as he realized his mother hadn't even noticed he was gone at all. He took a step forward, toward his mother, ever cautious of the knife and took a deep breath, ignoring the pain that flittered through his chest as he looking into his mother's wary, terrified eyes.

"Mom…?" His voice was small and unsure as he held a hand out, his eyes never wavering from her as she swung the knife in his direction.

"W-Who's there?" Diana's voice shook and Spencer swallowed as her gaze settled onto his, confusion and paranoia lighting the familiar blue irises.

"Mom it's me… It's Spencer. Your son." He said gently, edging forward, careful not to move to quickly for fear of what she could do with that knife if he did. He made a mental note to put the knives in a locked drawer from now on.

She was silent for a long, terrible moment as she stared at him. Recognition didn't flash through her eyes readily and he was worried that it would take a lot to pull her out of her delusion this time. If that was the case he'd have to wait it out, it was too dangerous to approach her with the knife in her hands. "Sp-Spencer?" her voice was hesitant, unsure. Her brows creased over her eyes and she swallowed rapidly several times.

"Why aren't you doing your homework?" she asked.

Such a mundane, simple, mother-like question. It almost made him smile and took a deep breath. "I finished it, Mom." He told her, keeping his voice low and even as he took a couple more tentative steps toward her, his right hand still out in front of him as his eyes flickered to the knife in her hands.

Diana frowned, confusion back in her eyes as she studied him. "…Then you should be in bed; it's late."

Spencer swallowed and nodded. "I know, Mom. I'm going…" he slid closer, close enough to reach out and touch the knife. Slowly, he slid his hands toward her and gently touched the handle of the knife. "Why don't we get you to bed too?" he suggested lightly as his finger wrapped around the handle and pulled the knife away easily, taking a quick step back and hiding the weapon behind his back.

Diana looked uncertain, her eyes going to her hand where the knife had just been and she frowned. "…It's late." She repeated, nodding slowly to herself. "We should sleep."

Spencer sighed in relief, nodding and holding his free hand out to his mother. "Come on, I'll help you."

Diana slowly got to her feet, taking hold of Spencer's smaller hand and gripping it tightly as she stumbled her way up. Her clothes were a bit disheveled, her hair was a mess and her eyes were still roving around the room nervously as she slowly followed Spencer through the living room and to the kitchen where he quickly put the knife away and snatched her medication from the cabinet.

"You have to take your medication…" he said slowly, shaking the pills out onto his palm and offering them to her. Diana's eyes narrowed as she studied the pills, shaking her head slowly.

"No, no." she insisted. "I already took them."

Spencer pressed his lips together. "No you didn't, Mom. They help, remember? They make it quiet… help you sleep. Here…" he passed them to her and she took them, staring at them suspiciously between her fingers as he poured a glass of water for her and held it carefully.

"It's ok, Mom." Spencer insisted, watching his mother's face. "They help, remember? Please, just take the medication."

Her eyes went from the pills to his face, clearly not trusting him.

Spencer licked his lips, "Please, Mom." He pleaded, hoping she would listen. Praying she would just slip the pills into her mouth and swallow them. Slowly, Diana popped the pills into her mouth and he passed her the water. She took a drink and made a face, sitting the glass down on the counter and puckering her lips unhappily.

Spencer sighed, watching her face. He wasn't sure if she'd even swallowed the pills or just slid them under her tongue and held them there. Normally, he would check to make sure, but it was late and he didn't want to push his luck with his mother. She was still on the fringes of her episode and any little thing could possibly send her right back into that dark and dangerous place where she didn't know or trust anyone.

He took Diana by the arm and led her upstairs to her room, hugging her gently and whispering "Goodnight," before slowly slipping back out and heading down the hall to his own bedroom. He changed into his pajamas slowly, wincing at the jolts of pain from his throbbing feet as he slid beneath the covers and lay on his back, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling, sniffling as he tried to keep himself busy naming the constellations until the tears welled up in his large, hazel eyes and slipped silently down his cheeks.

He cried himself to sleep that night, clinging to his blanket and wondering what it would be like to have a normal life with a normal family and a normal mother… He drifted off to sleep with that fantasy image still floating around in his weary, sad mind.

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**E/N: Aw… poor little Spencey… I've always wondered what exactly happened that night but I couldn't quite bring myself to write out the entire day so I just wrote what happened afterwards. Hope you guys enjoyed it! More to come on Spencer's troubled past soon!**

**Let me know what you think guys! Your opinions and feedback mean the world to me!**


	3. All Hallows Eve

**A/N: Does 'sorry' count here? I think it should count.**

**I am so sorry for taking so long to update guys! A lot has been going on for me. I got a new laptop (*cheers*) the old one was so freakin' screwed up it wasn't even funny. But it took a little time to get my stuff transferred to jump drive and I've been working on a crossover fic and the next fic in my Morgan/Reid series because I've kept those readers waiting for way too long and school is draining my time and Lola wants to gut me for not writing everything she wants me to write…**

**So… *clears throat***

**I'll stop rambling like an idiot now and let you get back to the story! Here's the next little snapshot of Reid's sort of really depressing childhood.**

**Enjoy! And please review!**

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><p><em><strong>All Hallows Eve<strong>_

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><p>Twelve year old Spencer Reid tucked his books carefully into his bag as the last bell rang dismissing class for the day. It was Friday. October 31st. All day he had listened to his classmates, all seventeen and eighteen years old, talk about parties they were going to that night. Listened to them discussing whose parents were going to be gone and who had the biggest house to accommodate the most people.<p>

And all day, Spencer had been ignored. Not that he was surprised. Most of the time he was ignored and he preferred that to being bullied and picked on. Thankfully, today everyone had been too busy with their later plans to bother him, but he felt more alone now than ever. He had no friends at school; how could he when they were all so much older than he was? And he had no friends his own age at home.

His one lone friend, Jeff, had moved away three months ago. He had no one to talk to about what he was going to be for Halloween, whether or not he was going Trick-or-Treating (twelve, after all, is a little too old for that) and if he did decide to, no one to go with him.

He walked home along his usual route, squinting against the sun glaring off the cars as they move past him on the sidewalk and he sighed. Not for the first time, he wished his father were still around. At least then maybe he'd have someone to talk to. Someone to pick out costumes with, to watch scary movies with, to eat candy with. Instead, he was alone with his mother, when she wasn't working or having an episode. Which wasn't often.

His house was one of the few on the block that bore decorations for Halloween, though there weren't many and they weren't overly large. Spencer had done most of the work himself; Diana helped when she could, but she was struggling hard enough to keep her job and manage her schizophrenia at the same time. Most of the normal household responsibilities fell on Spencer's shoulders because of this.

It was the reason Diana had been so insistent that her son get to celebrate Halloween. What better holiday for a twelve year old boy to have fun on than one where he was allowed to be whoever or whatever he wanted and get candy? Of course, Spencer remembered dressing up and being taken Trick-or-Treating when he was younger and his father would drive him around the safer areas of the city and walk him around the neighborhood collecting candy for his bright orange Jack-o-Lantern bucket, but this would be the first time that he had done so since his father had left.

"Mom?" Spencer entered the kitchen and sat his bag down on the table, looking around for his mother. "Mom I'm home!" He frowned when he was answered by silence and began to worry when he didn't find his mother in the kitchen where she usually was when he got home. Unless she was in the middle of another episode…

He made his way into the living room, frowning. "Mom? It's Spencer!"

Still, he got no answer and was starting to get worried. His mother was always home when he got there unless she'd had to leave for some reason, and then she always let him know. He moved farther into the room nervously, listening for any sounds anywhere in the house.

"BOO!"

The twelve year old nearly jumped a foot in the air when Diana Reid suddenly jumped up from the other side of the couch, grinning. She was dressed in a dark, flowing dress, her long blond hair a curly, frizzy mess, a pointed black hat atop her head, green face paint covering her face.

She laughed as her son calmed down and smiled. "Mom!" he frowned. "Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry, Baby." Diana smiled and pulled Spencer into a brief hug. "How do like my costume."

Spencer smiled and nodded, "It's perfect." He told her, glad that she was smiling and laughing and being his mother. The woman who had done everything she could to raise him and make sure that he had the best she could possibly give him.

"Good." She nodded, "Now hurry and get upstairs. You've only got a few hours before it's dark and I want to see your costume before you leave."

Spencer's face fell and he looked down. Diana frowned, watching her young son and kneeling down in front of him. "What's the matter?" she asked gently, pushing hair from his face as he looked up at her, his eyes magnified behind the round glasses.

"… I don't think I'm going to go Trick-or-Treating tonight." Spencer admitted, his voice soft and small.

"Why not? You've been looking forward to this all month, Spencer."

"I was, but… I don't have anyone to go with me; I'll be alone." Spencer said, chewing his lip.

Diana sighed and ruffled his hair. "I suppose you wouldn't want your mother to go with you, huh? That wouldn't be cool."

Spencer snorted, smiling a bit. "I think I'm already 'not cool'." He told her.

"Spencer, listen to me: I don't care what anyone told you; you are cool. You are smart and sweet and funny and you are my son. No one can tell you that you aren't worthy of anything, understand?"

He smiled, nodding. "I guess."

"Spencer Reid don't you start guessing on me now." Diana smiled. "You'd better know it."

A grin spread across his face, "Alright. I know."

"That's my son." She hugged him again. "Now go on. I want to see that costume on you."

**~/.\~**

Spencer came down stairs a little while later to find Diana putting candy in a large orange bowl. She turned and grinned when she saw him. "You look amazing." She grinned at him, tilting her head, her witch's hat falling toward the left. "The cutest Luke Skywalker there ever was."

Spencer sighed, "Mom! He's not supposed to be 'cute'!" he frowned at her, but his large hazel eyes sparkled as he reached into the candy container and stole a piece. Diana pretended she didn't notice and smiled faintly.

"Alright, fine. The handsomest Luke Skywalker."

He smiled, looking down. "Mom!" There wasn't quite as much protest in his voice then and he pressed his lips together.

"It's almost dark. You'd better get going, Spencer." Diana told him after a moment, glancing at the clock. "I don't want you out there too late."

Spencer fidgeted. "…You can go with me. If you want." He offered her slowly.

"I'll be fine here, Spencer." Diana assured him, smiling. "Don't worry about me. You go and have some fun, alright? But stay in the neighborhood; I don't want you anywhere else."

"I know, Mom." Spencer nodded. "Stay in the neighborhood, don't cross the street without looking, make sure I have reflectors, don't go to Mrs. Applewood's house because she hates children and eats them for fun."

Diana grinned, "Alright Mr. Smarty Pants." She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead, secretly very happy when he didn't protest or pull away and instead hugged her tightly.

"Be safe." She warned him, watching nervously as he hurried out the door. She wanted to follow after him, but something she'd learned in the past couple of years was that her son was far more independent than any normal child was. So after she finished filling the candy bowl, she contented herself to watching out the window, looking for Spencer in the small group of children as they made their way by the front of the house.

**~/.\~**

Spencer glanced up at the sky as he walked down the driveway. The sun hadn't quite gone down yet and the sky was a deep purple-grey, the edges of the moon just visible from behind a thin covering of clouds. The air was colder, biting into his skin as he crunched down the sidewalk, stepping on fallen leaves as he went.

There were groups of kids everywhere, running around from house to house. Some of them with parents and older siblings, some just wandering around with friends laughing. He suddenly felt that lonely feeling well up inside his chest again and was almost tempted to turn around and get his mother to go with him no matter how 'uncool' that looked.

He hesitated out front of the first house, watching a group of four cheerily chorus "Trick-or-Treat!" and get their candy before hurrying down the steps. And then he was standing at the end of the driveway alone, not sure why he couldn't get his feet to move forward as he stared at the colorfully decorated house.

"Hi."

Spencer jumped at the sound of a female voice on his right and turned to see a dark haired girl, a little taller than he was, smiling at him. She was dressed as Princess Leia, her hair done up in braids, a white dress, with a black bag on her arms, a couple handfuls of candy already weighing it down.

"I like your costume." She smiled, her lips tugging into one corner of her cheek, dimples popping. "I'm Amy."

Spencer smiled, "Spencer." He told her, "And… I-I like your costume." He wasn't entirely sure why he was stuttering but he decided to blame it on the cold air rather than any nerves on his part.

"Nice to meet you, Spencer." Amy said, still smiling. "Where're your friends?"

"Oh… uh… I d-don't… Th-they aren't… I'm not with any friends." He finally said, swallowing and looking down at his feet.

Amy tilted her head. "Me either. My mom's waiting at the end of the street for me…" she admitted. "Wanna walk around with me?"

Spencer looked up, surprised by the offer, nodding dumbly for a moment. "Uh… s-sure!" his voice squeaked a bit and he licked his lips. "That'd be fun."

She grinned and looped her arm through his. "Let's go then."

She led him up the driveway of the house, humming a song under her breath and Spencer felt himself relax just a little. This was turning out to be a good night after all…

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><p><strong>EN: So… I had to write something happy for Halloween guys! It's Spencer's favorite holiday and there's got to be a GOOD memory attached to that ;)**

**Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!**

**Don't forget to review!**


	4. Friendly Rivals

**A/N: Soooo… It's been a while since I updated this and I'm incredibly SORRY. I had a huge amount of this horrible disease called Writer's Block. I've never gone so long without an update, at least, not that I can remember. Never.**

**But, I did tell you guys this wasn't a regular fic, updates are sadly irregular, but as fast as I can make them considering each chapter is technically its own little story. I've got tons of ideas for later updates when Reid's older, but Lola just doesn't want to work with me on this important younger years, I had to bribe her with dead bodies and chocolate. And you have no idea how expensive chocolate can be.**

**Anyway, enough rambling…**

**Please review!**

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><p><em><strong>Friendly Rivals<strong>_

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><p>Spencer squinted against the bright light of the sun as he rode his bike down the sidewalk. The summer sun was bearing down on the streets near the Caltech campus in Pasadena, California. He was finishing his second semester and was heading back to the housing system where he'd been staying. It had taken a lot of work to get them to allow a thirteen year old (plus eight months and three days) to stay unaccompanied so far away from his mother, but the school had been more than willing to argue with the state until they finally relented. He'd been staying at the Dabney House under the supervision of the older students and occasional faculty members.<p>

He didn't mind it so much, though he did resent being treated like a child. Most of his time lately, however, was spent either working on assignments or worrying about his mother. He'd been apprehensive at best about leaving Diana alone, but he called her as often as possible, visited during every break and wrote her every chance he got. She always insisted that she was fine, but Spencer knew how much she hated taking her medication, he knew she was having trouble even drawing up teaching plans for work.

She'd taken an extended leave at his insistence, but he wasn't sure that was enough. He hated not being there for her and he tried to get her to come to California, but she told him she didn't want to intrude and that she was a grown woman who could take care of herself, that she couldn't just leave her home behind. It was part of who she was and she wasn't willing to let go.

He dismounted from the bicycle and sighed, tugging on the strap of the bag he had slung over his shoulder. His text books and folders weighed the bag down, but he didn't mind as he made his way up the steps, passing a few other students on the way. Most of them were out with friends, celebrating the end of another semester. Finals had ended the day before and he was heading back to Las Vegas in the morning.

"Hey, Reid! Wait up!" a voice called behind him. He turned to see his friend Ethan jogging up the steps behind him, dark hair unruly, clothes a bit disheveled. He caught up with Spencer and doubled over for a moment, breathing heavily and pushing his hair out of his face.

Ethan was a few months older than Spencer, (he'd specify eleven months and six days) and the two had become friendly rivalries over the past few months, entering different science contests and competitions, seeing who got the highest grades… To date, they were technically tied. Both had won three of the seven contests they'd challenge each other in the last semester. Though both claimed to have won the seventh, the judges hadn't been able to make a definitive call.

"What's wrong?" Spencer asked, shifting his weight and frowning at him.

Ethan held his hand up and dug through his bag, pulling out a sheet of paper and passing it to him, "Next week, the Garret brothers are hosting the next Science Contest."

Spencer studied the paper and sighed, "I'm going back to Vegas tomorrow, I won't be here," he told him.

"Then you forfeit, dude," Ethan said, a faint smug look on his face, "I win."

"No way!" Spencer argued, "That's completely unfair. I have to go home; we'll have to do it some other time."

Ethan shook his head and folded his arms across his chest, "Nope. I win, Reid. You just need to accept it."

Spencer narrowed his eyes, shaking his head adamantly. "Reschedule," he demanded. "I'll be back next semester; we can pick up where we left off."

Ethan frowned, "Too long. Forfeit."

Spencer frowned, shaking his head. "Not fair. Reschedule," he repeated, folding his arms across his chest. "We said no forfeits from the beginning, remember?"

Ethan looked thoughtful, pursing his lips and shaking his head, "No, no I don't remember that. And I have an excellent memory."

"Not an eidetic memory though," Spencer counted immediately, "_I _do. And I remember very clearly that _you _said there would be no forfeits when you came down with the flu right before the Pasadena Annual Biology and Chemistry Fair*."

Ethan made a face and sighed, "Fine. You got me," he relented, "Rematch. But I don't want to wait until August. I'm taking extra classes for the summer semester, it starts next month. Registration ends in a week. I'm sure there'll be something going on then,"

Spencer chewed his lip thoughtfully. He hadn't planned on taking summer classes. Not that he didn't _want _to, he just wasn't sure if he wanted to leave his mother alone for such an extended period of time. "I'll have to think about it," he said slowly.

"Come on, Reid, you and I both know summer classes won't be a problem for you, besides, how else are we going to settle this score?" Ethan demanded, raising a brow at him.

Spencer sighed, "My mom needs me,"

"She's on sabbatical, isn't she? Just get her to stay out here for the summer, man," Ethan suggested quickly. "I'm sure she'd love a vacation in California. Think of how close we are to Los Angeles."

Spencer didn't point that his mother would be more interested in the college campus than she would LA and he frowned thoughtfully, "I'll talk to her about it," he finally said, "But if she doesn't want to come, you're going to have to wait until the fall semester to lose again."

Ethan smirked, holding his hand out, "You wish, Reid, I'm the best and we both know it."

Spencer smiled and grasped the other teenager's hand, shaking it before turning and heading back into the house to get his things ready for the flight back to Vegas. He turned and glanced at Ethan's retreating back and felt a smile on his lips.

Ethan was one of the first genuine friends he'd ever had. It was an odd relationship, but one that worked and he enjoyed having someone who could understand and communicate with him on his level. Someone that could actually present a challenge to him, and there weren't many people that could do that.

Years ago, he'd never have believed that there was actually another person out there so close to his own age that he could relate to. Coming to Caltech had been one of the best experiences of his life thus far. He was being challenge in class, talking to people who actually understood the obscure facts and tangents that his mind often spewed forth and he actually had a real friend. He was sure that things could only get better from here. He felt like he was truly on the cusp of grasping that life he'd envisioned for himself after his father left him. It was so close he could almost touch it; it was just a matter of time.

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><p><strong>*The Pasadena Annual Biology and Chemistry Fair isn't an actual event. I made it up, because research is often boring and I didn't feel like looking up actual science fairs in the Pasadena area. (Translation: I was lazy)<strong>

**E/N: On another note… I actually did do research on the California Institute of Technology (Caltech) where Reid went to school (apparently, according to "Proof" he's also an MIT graduate, but he definitely went to Caltech before moving to Virginia and joining the Academy) Anyway, Caltech IS located in Pasadena, CA, just northeast of Los Angeles and the Dabney house IS one of the houses in the University's housing system, because Caltech doesn't have a Fraternity system like most universities and they have this Rotation thing where Freshmen are randomly put into houses, though that was a recent thing, 2002 or somewhere along that time, so they made exceptions for brilliant kids like Reid and Ethan (at least, that's MY rationale behind it all)**

**Anyway, the show never really tells you exactly how and when and where Ethan and Reid meet, but I figure it must've been when they were in school, considering they definitely knew each other before the Academy since Ethan didn't show up the first day. So, I decided, Caltech was a logical place for them to meet and become friendly rivals.**

**Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Please let me know! Your opinions mean the world to me!**

**Again, sorry for the wait between updates. And also, sorry for this horrible long end note.**

**Don't forget to review!**


	5. The Future Looks Bright

**A/N: Thanks so much those of you who reviewed last chapter! I appreciate it :D You guys rock! Look at that, it only took me a little more than a couple of weeks to post this chapter! YAY for me XD**

**'Course, that could be because in this chapter we move far, far closer to Spencer being in the BAU. That's right, this chapter is about Reid's first day at the FBI Academy.**

**I've taken a little bit of liberty here considering a few things… 1 – the show NEVER exactly says when and how Reid joined the team, we just know he was young and Gideon "discovered" him. 2 – In the first episode, "Extreme Aggressor", Morgan says that he teaches the Self Defense class at the Academy and so… I decided that Reid and Morgan could have met, pre-BAU, when Reid was in the Academy. At least for that one class, ya know? Just my own take on things…**

**Also, I really don't like the title of this one… It's just… meh… *sighs***

**Hope you enjoy!**

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><p><strong>The Future Looks Bright<strong>

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><p>Spencer had expected the FBI Academy to be more or less like college, or maybe high school. And in some ways, he had to admit that it was. There were "academic" classes on law enforcement and rules and Criminal Justice and Criminology and all the profiling classes that he was taking because the ultimate goal was and would always be to get into the BAU.<p>

So far, his first day hadn't been anywhere near as bad as his first day of high school, but he had a Self Defense/Hand-to-Hand combat class in half an hour that he was not looking forward to at all.

Spencer was uncoordinated and gangly and sometimes felt like he had never quite gained proper control over his long, slender limbs. Nevertheless, if he was going to join the FBI, he had to take the class. Hopefully, he'd be able to learn a few things…

The locker room was buzzing with the chattering voices of about fifteen, sixteen other men. He only cast a cursory glance around the large, echoing space before lowering his head and making his way quickly to his locker.

He nervously took his shirt off and pulled an FBI t-shirt over his head, the fabric hanging off of his torso and making him look, if it were possible, even skinnier than he already was.

He pushed his hair back behind his ears and shed his pants quickly, pulling on a pair of sweat pants on before sitting on the bench and pulling a pair of sneakers over his mismatched socks.

He jumped when a young man standing next to him spoke, "Dude, why don't your socks match?"

Spencer looked up to see a tall man wearing loose sweat pants and no shirt, muscles rippling on his chest. He felt his face heat slightly and he looked down again, nodding.

"…Yeah," he said quietly, not making eye contact.

The guy raised his brow confused and shrugged, sitting down next to him to pull his own shoes on before glancing at him again, eyeing him up and down.

"Name's Danny," the other man said, eyeing him with curious eyes.

Reid licked his lips and double checked the laces on his sneakers. They felt weird on his feet; he hardly ever worse shoes like these. "Spencer Reid," he said, tugging at the tongue in the shoe and wiggling his toes uncomfortably.

"How old _are _you?" Danny suddenly asked, frowning.

"Um, 20. I'm 20 as of last month," Spencer answered.

"And you're in the FBI Academy?" Danny raised a brow, "Shouldn't you be more focused on… college or something?"

"Oh, well, I've already got two PhDs in Mathematics and Chemistry… And in two months, one week and three days I'll have my third Doctorate in Engineering."

Danny just blinked at him, mouth hanging slightly open. After a moment, he pressed his lips tightly together and shook his head to clear the fog, clapping the younger man on the shoulder lightly, "Well… Good luck in there, Kid," he said, standing and grabbing his own t-shirt, pulling it over his head as he left the locker room.

Spencer sat there for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. Most of the other men had left the locker room already, there were only a few stragglers left, most of them zipping up duffle bags and shoving them into lockers, making sure they hadn't left anything out yet.

After a few minutes, Spencer took a deep breath and stood up, telling himself that this wasn't high school, these people were adults and hopefully more mature than 17 year old boys…

He walked out into the large room where the others were waiting. There were fifteen other men and six women, all dressed in sweat pants or short and t-shirts, most of the women had their hair in pony tails, though there were a couple who had their hair cut too short to be pulled back. They wore thick headbands to keep their hair out of their face.

Swallowing, he stood near the back of the group and looking around, studying the faces. Most of them were older than he was by a few years, not much, but enough to remind him that he was still the youngest one in the room.

There were a few who looked closer to his age, but they all looked far more capable than he did when it came to hand-to-hand combat.

The teacher, a dark skinned agent, walked in and stood in front of the group, silencing the chatter and holding up his hands, introducing himself.

"I'm SSA Derek Morgan," he said, his voice loud and clear, "I work in the Behavioral Analysis Unit here at Quantico," he continued.

Spencer's ears perked up and he studied the older man curiously. He looked a lot like most of the other men here, well-built, strong. Capable of holding their own in a fight.

Agent Morgan continued on explaining the importance of Self-Defense and hand-to-hand combat.

"You aren't always going to be able to rely on your gun to get you out of a bad situation," Morgan said, "Sometimes you lose your weapon, sometimes an UnSub will attack you from behind. And in those kinds of situations, you're going to need to know how to take a suspect down quickly."

He called for a volunteer to help him and demonstrated a few simple moves, saying that they'd get more complicated as time went on. After a few demonstrations, he told them to break into pairs and start practicing the moves he'd shown them.

Spencer nervously looked around as everyone began pairing off. He didn't know anyone here very well; he'd chatted with a few earlier… He sighed, remembering why he'd hated group projects in high school so much. No one ever wanted to work with him, or, worse, when they did they only wanted to because he was 'the smart kid'.

"Hey, Spencer," Danny suddenly appeared at his side, smiling easily, "Wanna pair up?"

Surprised, Spencer nodded, mumbling something incoherently. He wasn't really thrilled with the idea if he was being honest. Danny would have problem taking him down easily, but Spencer was sure it would take him far longer to get the advantage against Danny.

Still, he was surprised anyone had asked and he followed the older man to a clear spot on the matted floor, hugging his torso nervously.

"Not much of a fighting man, are ya?" Danny asked curiously eyeing him.

Spencer shrugged, "Not really, I prefer to use my, uh, my mind."

Danny grinned, "Well, that'd probably distract some bad guys, huh?"

He wasn't sure if Danny meant that as a compliment or an insult so he just shrugged and kept his mouth shut, waiting for Agent Morgan to tell them to get started.

He wasn't entire sure what to do, but Danny was more patient than he'd expected, explaining what they were going to do over and over. Not that it helped much.

Spencer ended up landing on his butt more times than he cared to count and he was certain he'd have a nasty bruise there by the next morning. Danny smiled apologetically as he held a hand out and pulled him back to his feet.

"Sorry,"

"Not a problem," Spencer said, looking down and sighing. He'd known he wasn't going to be much good at this… But really, he'd expected to be at least a little farther along by now.

"Wanna try again?" Danny asked skeptically.

Spencer nodded and Danny smiled. The kid might not be especially good at this, but he had to be one of the most determined people he'd ever met before.

Agent Morgan was roaming around the room, watching the students and occasionally correcting them as they practiced. When he came to Spencer and Danny, he stood back for a moment, watching as Danny once again knocked Spencer down.

The young man huffed and scowled. This was definitely getting old. Morgan raised a brow as he watched the skinny kid ignore the other man's extended hand and push himself up to his feet, brushing his long hair out of his face.

Smiling to himself, Morgan stepped up him, "Here, let me show you something, kid," he said, glancing toward Danny who stepped out of the way.

Spencer stepped back, nodding slowly, "Okay…"

Morgan smiled, "Don't worry, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you… Just pay attention, alright?"

Spencer nodded and gasped when Morgan suddenly gripped his arm, spinning him around and holding him tightly against his chest, one arm wrapped around his neck. Not tight enough to cut off his air supply, but tight enough for him to feel the pressure.

Danny watched curiously as Morgan explained the moves again and then told Spencer to try. Nervously, the younger man stepped forward and started to try, but Morgan stopped him, shaking his head.

"Look, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you. Relax and focus, alright? You can do this,"

Spencer was so sure but he nodded and took a breath, trying to clear his head of all those nervous thoughts before taking another breath and stepping forward and trying the move.

To his surprise, he actually did manage it – sort of. Before Morgan quickly loosened his grip and reversed their positions before releasing him.

"Not a bad start, a little rusty though. And you definitely need to work on your grip, kid."

Spencer nodded, "Alright."

"Keep it up," Morgan smiled and walked away, going to the next group. Danny stepped back up, a lopsided grin on his face, shaking his head.

"Ready to go again?"

"Absolutely," Spencer nodded, feeling somewhat excited. He felt a small bubble of confidence working its way into his chest. He still ended up landing on his butt more times than not, but he actually did managed to execute the moves a couple of times, even keeping a hold on Danny for a full ten seconds.

As he made his way back to the locker room, he felt much less nervous than he had before. He was one step closure to his goal of joining the BAU and he was actually learning something he'd never learned before. He could feel a bright future ahead of him and couldn't help but smile to himself as he made his way to the parking lot and home to his small apartment.

Things were only going up from here.

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><p><strong>EN: So, I hope you guys enjoyed this! Please let me know what you think! XD**

**(Also, I skipped over the part where Spencer had Diana committed… The flashback scene in "Revelations" did a pretty good job covering that… and I can't think about it without getting all teary… Sorry guys)**

**Please review! Let me know what you think!**


	6. Belonging

**A/N: So, I know I left you guys for a while once again… Sorry about that. And thanks so much to the reviewers! I really appreciate all of your feedback, it's what motivates me to write :D**

**I'm not sure exactly how far I'm going to be taking this little sort-of-mini-series… It'll go past just him joining the BAU and probably through the Hankel ordeal and maybe the headaches and Prentiss's "death" and return. But that's a long ways away… So, how far do you guys think I should go? Review and let me know!**

**Hope you enjoy this little installment :3 Welcome to Spencer Reid's first day as an FBI profiler!**

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><p><strong>Belonging<strong>

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><p>Today was the day. Dr. Spencer Reid, fresh out of the FBI Academy and barely twenty-two years old, was joining the Behavioral Analysis Unit. The youngest agent to ever do so. In fact, Gideon had had to get special permission and go over a few bureaucratic heads to make it happen.<p>

Reid wasn't entirely sure what to expect, but he'd met SSA Jason Gideon a couple of months into his profiling classes and had formed a sort of bond with the older man. He had been in FBI for nearly thirty years and most of that had been with the BAU. The older man had slowly become his mentor and teacher and if it weren't for Gideon's recommendation and support, Reid doubted he'd have made it to the BAU so quickly.

He took a deep breath, holding his coffee cup close to his chest and nervously patting his hair to make sure it wasn't sticking up everywhere. He'd been standing outside of the wide glass doors that marked the entrance into the elite Unit's headquarters for almost three and a half minutes. He couldn't delay any longer.

Spencer closed his eyes and took a small sip from the coffee cup and stepped forward, pushing his way inside.

It was busy and bustling, agents chatting on phone, making small talk by their desks, drinking coffee, finishing up the previous night's paperwork. He could smell bitter coffee brewing in the break room and hear casual conversations as he passed by above the bullpen. A few agents were discussing cases as they walked past him, holding a file open between them.

He cast them a cursory glance and then let his eyes slide along the office doors. Most of the blinds were pulled open, though some where tightly closed. He was looking for Gideon's office… There! He smiled as he spotted the door and approached it, knocking nervously.

He could feel his stomach doing flip flops as he waited and heard Gideon's muffled voice call, "Come in," through the door.

Gideon was sitting at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he bent over a file. He looked up when Reid entered and smiled, removing his glasses and standing up, grasping the young man's hand in a warm, firm grip.

"Spencer, you're early," he smiled.

Reid shrugged and fidgeted nervously, "I didn't want to be late and I didn't get much sleep last night," he said. Gideon smiled gently, reading Reid's anxiety as easily as if it were written on his forehead.

"Well, you're lucky. Today's been quiet. We've just got a few consults. Come on, I'll introduce you to the team and show you you're desk,"

Reid nodded and followed him out of the office and down the hall to another door, this one with a plaque that read "Aaron Hotchner". The blinds were open and Reid could see a dark haired man inside, younger than Gideon but older than him – mid-thirties most likely – talking on a cell phone with a faint smile on his face.

Gideon knocked on the door and the man looked up, calling for them to enter.

"Okay, I love you too," he was saying as they opened the door. "Ten o'clock, I promise. Bye Hailey." He sat the cell phone on his desk and was instantly business, glancing toward Reid and Gideon and raising a brow.

"So, is this the new Cadet?" he asked curiously.

Reid felt as if the man's dark eyes were looking through him like a laser and he shifted uncomfortably, keeping his lips pressed tightly together and hoping he made a good impression.

"Yes," Gideon nodded, smiling reassuringly at the young man, "Hotch, I'd like you to meet Dr. Spencer Reid. I think he'll be a great addition to the team."

Hotch was silent for a moment, still studying the young man, before standing and offering him a smile, his eyes crinkling as he held out his hand. Reid grasped it and forced his own nervous smile.

"Aaron Hotchner," the man said, "Call me Hotch. It's nice to finally meet you, Dr. Reid, Gideon's been talking about you for a while."

Reid's smile grew more genuine and he felt his face heating slightly, "Nice to meet you, sir," he said, silently swearing when his voice squeaked slightly. This was no time to seem like some nervous, teenage kid. He was here to do a job.

"I'm going to introduce Spencer to the rest of the team, then we need to talk about those bombings last month. I think I may have narrowed something down…" Gideon said. Hotch nodded and sat back down.

"As soon as you can; Strauss said it's priority. We might have to fly in and assist if there are any more attacks,"

As they left the office, Reid glanced to Gideon and frowned, "Bombings?"

"It's a case we've been working on for a couple of weeks; a series of lethal bombings in Florida. Last Wednesday he bombed a daycare center, before that, a parking garage. Eight people have been killed,"

"Oh, so you're consulting on the case?"

"Unless there are more attacks soon, like Hotch said. We'll probably end up going there personally before this ends. He's getting bolder and his bombs are killing more people," Gideon frowned, looking thoughtful before leading Reid down to the bullpen, "The rest of the team is down here."

They stopped next to a small grouping of desks and he motioned to one of them, "This will be your desk," he told him, "And this," he motioned to two men sitting at their desks, one directly in front of him, the other just to the side, "Is Agent Vincent Wright and Agent Christopher Sable."

Reid forced a smile and the men smiled back kindly, "Spencer Reid, right?" Sable, an older man with dark hair peppered with grey, asked.

Reid nodded, still feeling somewhat nervous, "Yeah, um… It's nice to meet you,"

Wright grinned. He was a shorter man, pale blond curls that hung around his eyes. He was thick muscled but he had a kind smile that settled Spencer's nervous a lot. "You're the genius, huh?" he smiled at Gideon, "Man, these Cadets just keep getting younger, Gideon. Pretty soon we're gonna be lettin' teenagers into the bureau."

Reid blushed and Gideon raised a brow, "He's not just any kid," he said.

"Trust us, we know," Sable smiled and looked to Reid, "This man has done nothing but tell us your test scores and praise you for two weeks solid. You got a lot to live up to, Doc."

Gideon smiled and clapped him gently on the shoulder, "And he can do it," he assured them, "He might be young, but he didn't get here for free."

Wright glanced up over Gideon's shoulder a moment later and grinned, "And here comes Derek," he murmured.

"Sorry I'm late," the dark skinned agent apologized to Gideon as soon as he saw him, sitting his coffee down on his desk and nearly falling into his chair. "Traffic was brutal."

"Should've took the train, like I told you, Morgan," Sable said, smiling.

Morgan rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Gideon and Reid, frowning slightly, "Don't I know you?" he asked, looking him up and down.

Reid nodded, "Yeah, um, two years ago… I was in your Self-Defense class."

"That's right, I remember," he smiled, tilting his head, "You were one of the best students in there."

"He was?" Sable looked skeptical as he eyed the skinny young man and Reid couldn't help but agree. It was really only by miracle that he'd managed to barely pass the class. He knew he wasn't any good at hand-to-hand anything, but he'd tried his best and could at least say he'd improved.

"Sure he was," Morgan smiled, nodding, "He was one of the few that actually paid attention and tried to learn instead of using it as free time and excuse to fight someone." He looked him up and down again and tilted his head, "What was your name again?"

"Um, Sp-Spencer Reid," he answered, wanting to hit himself when he stuttered.

"Oh," Morgan's eyes widened and he sat up in his chair, "So you're the kid Gideon's been telling us about then."

"He is," Gideon nodded, "Right now, he's just with us for the Probationary period, but I'm sure he'll do fine." Gideon glanced at his watch after a moment and sighed, "Morgan, for today Dr. Reid can help you with your consults, alright? And at four I want everyone in conference room. Hotch and I have been working on a profile for the bomber in South Florida and we could use your opinions."

He patted Reid gently on the back before heading back up to his office. Morgan gave him a friendly smile and told him to pull his desk chair closer.

"It's just a few consults," he told him, "Usually, we have a lot more, but it's been a slow week."

Sable snorted, "Not if this bomber makes another attack; we'll be heading to South Florida before out new Media Liaison can even arrive."

"New Media Liaison?" Reid asked, frowning.

"Yeah, she's supposed to be here tomorrow morning," Wright explained, "Our other Liaison transferred to Missing Persons last week, Hotch and Gideon have been fielding cases and passing them to other teams since then."

Sable smiled, "Wonder how she'll handle this boys' club?" he raised a brow and Morgan rolled his eyes.

"She's an FBI agent and carries a gun, I think she can handle herself, guys,"

Sable smirked and shook his head, "We'll see won't we? Like I said, we'll be in Florida before too long,"

"Probably gonna have to take another team with us," Wright said, shaking his head. "Have you seen the news reports on this guy? He's not going down without a bang."

"Nah," Sable shook his head, "Piece of cake, Vince. Bombers are all cowards at their core; he'll be easy to catch."

Wright rolled his eyes and look to Reid, "Don't let Mr. Confident over here fool you kid, this job is never easy. If you can survive the Probationary period, I'd be shocked if you still wanted to stay with the Unit."

Reid shrugged, "This is all I've ever wanted to do, really…"

"With a brain like yours?" Morgan looked surprised, "Man, you could do so many other things."

"I guess I could," Reid agreed, "But honestly, I don't want to."

"More power to you, kid," Wright said, shaking his head, "Just remember, this job comes with its own special stress. We see some of the worse humanity has to office and a lot of the times… we don't get there in time to save everyone."

Sable nodded, "Saving one is a miracle,"

Reid pressed his lips together and nodded. "I'll keep that in mind," he said. And he would. But he seriously doubted it would change his mind. He had made it. He was at the BAU, helping to profile criminals and get inside their heads. This was what he'd wanted for as long as he could remember and he wasn't going to let a few ominous words for a couple of agents tell him otherwise. This was what he wanted to do. This was where he belonged.

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><p><strong>EN: I really enjoyed writing this chapter :D It was one of the more interesting ones to write.**

**And just in case anyone's curious, Sable and Wright are agents that won't survive long. Remember the Adrian Bale case they mention in the first episode and then again, later that season? That's where they die. I figured there had to be more agents on the team if there's an opening for Elle later on.**

**And of course, the Media Liaison they mention is JJ. Remember though, she wasn't in the first few episodes (not sure why… they don't give her a real "entrance") so I'm assuming she was there, but not "there" as in, not as important to the team until later. **

**And of course, Garcia has even been hired yet… But fret not, she will be soon XD**

**Hope you guys enjoyed the "snapshot"! Please let me know what you think! The review button is your best friend and he'll give you more Reid if you click him!**


	7. Heroes and Tragedy

**A/N: So… First things first, you guys are amazing and I love you all! Thanks so much for all of your reviews! If I haven't replied to anyone personally, I'm sorry!**

**And now, apologies: Sorry for taking so long to get this newest snapshot up. It's been over a month I know and I'm truly, truly sorry for that! I feel just awful, but I simply couldn't seem to get a concrete idea for this in my head.**

**I'll warn you now, it's gonna be sad. At least, that's what I'm aiming for.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoy! And please forgive me! And let me know what you think! Opinions are loved!**

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><p><strong>Heroes and Tragedy<strong>

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><p><em>Show me a hero and I will write you a tragedy<br>_**–F. Scott Fitzgerald**

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><p>Looking back on the day, everything had started out so seemingly routine. Spencer had been with the BAU for nearly nine months now and found himself settling in far more comfortably than he'd ever expected. Morgan had become a friend, almost an older brother really; Agent Wright and Agent Sable like uncles; Gideon had been like a father to him since he'd met the older FBI agent and Agent Hotchner was a bit harder to place, but somewhere between uncle and father as well. And then there was JJ, the media liaison.<p>

Spencer remembered when he'd first met the smiling, young blond woman on his second day in the unit. He'd stuttered and ducked his head and smiled when she shook his hand. She was like an older sister to him, gentle and sweet. Though, if he were honest, Spencer sometimes found himself wishing she was less a sister and something a bit more… And just two months ago a woman named Penelope Garcia had joined their team as their TA.

Reid hadn't known what to think of her at first, she was so bright and loud. Morgan certainly seemed to like her and she _really _liked Morgan. But Reid felt a little awkward around the bubbly blond analyst and still wasn't entirely sure how to respond to her.

For a while there, everything was going smoothly. Spencer worked cases, flew with the team across the country, solving crimes and putting away UnSubs. Sure, being in the FBI was a dangerous job but profilers weren't even required to carry weapons. It wasn't as if he was getting shot at every day and he finally felt like he was truly accomplishing something real with his life.

And then it happened. Reality caught up with him.

The bombings in Florida from months previous had seemed to stop and it seemed as if perhaps the mysterious bomber was gone. But then he'd started up again and this time the team couldn't ignore it.

It had started out just like any other case. A briefing in the Round Table Room, a couple of hours on the BAU jet and then several long, stressful days of bad coffee, take-out, cheap hotel mattresses and little sleep. Reid didn't mind so much, really, as long as he was working he was fine.

When the bombing escalated, one attack killing more than fifteen people, an entire task force was comprised of FBI agents, state officers, SWAT… All in all there were more than fifty people working the case round the clock for a week before they caught a break.

It had been Gideon who'd really figured it out. And they caught him. Adrian Bale was his name. Spencer remembered the tense hours of hostage negotiations before Bale finally surrendered. Like Gideon had said, bombers were all cowards in the end and Bale looked no different. He wasn't a large or imposing man but Reid would never forget that look in the man's eyes. Stone cold heartless.

It had sent shivers down the young agent's spine.

But they had won. The UnSub had surrendered and FBI agents were sent in to secure the hostages. If only it had truly been that simply. Wright and Sable were among the two who went in and they never came back out.

The explosion had been unexpected. Bale, standing near a police cruiser with Gideon practically glued to his side, had started laughing, a horrible, manic laugh that would later haunt Reid's nightmares.

The look on Gideon's face was one of pure terror as the ground beneath them quaked and fire burst the high windows as the building went up with a bang. Gideon's hands clutch the front of Bale's shirt, desperation in his eyes as he yanked him closer, screaming over the deafening noise.

"What have you done!"

He thrusts the man away just as quickly and ran toward the ruined building, Morgan and Hotch having to pull him back as the veteran agent fell to his knees, a look of absolutely defeat washing over his face, tears just barely glittering in his eyes as the agents and officers all around watch in silent horror as the flames grew, consuming each and every person inside.

Reid stood back in silence, some part of him wanting to believe that it wasn't true. He remembered the calm, smiling face of Sable as he and Wright had donned their flak jackets and checked their clips before they entered the building.

_"I don't see why I can't go in with you," Reid had argued, "I'm a trained FBI agent too."_

_Sable and Wright had smiled at him, shaking their heads while Morgan gave instructions to the SWAT leader behind them. "Maybe next time, Kid," Wright had said. "You haven't even been with us a year yet. Got to give it some time before you can really play with the big boys."_

_Reid made a face and Sable grinned at the young agent, "Don't worry, Doc," he clapped him on the shoulder, "In no time you'll be wondering why Hotch keeps sending you into the dangerous situations."_

_Reid watched the two of them jog away after the other agents and smiled, shaking his head._

_"They were never that nice to me when I first joined," Morgan said with a faint half-smile as he joined Reid. He looked back at Morgan and shrugged._

_"Sometimes I think they just feel bad for me," Reid sighed._

_Morgan chuckled, "Nah. You're a good agent, Kid. A little pretty, but tougher than you think. And if you turn out to be even half the agent that those two are, you did good."_

_Reid smiled and ran his hand through his hair, pushing it behind his ear and looking toward the building. "Pretty?"_

_Morgan grinned and reached out, ruffling the younger man's hair, making it fall back into his face. "Yep. You're a Pretty Boy, Reid. Might as well accept it now, while you're young and all the girls still like you."_

The memory would have made Reid smile if he wasn't currently standing with JJ and Morgan while Hotch and Gideon argued with rescue workers and fire fighters trying to put out the blaze. JJ was holding his hand tightly, her blue eyes misty as she stared straight forward, her lower lip trembling slightly.

It didn't really hit Reid until hours later when the fire had finally gone out, the smoke had lifted to darken the sky ominously and the rescue workers pulled the last of the bodies from the wreckage, confirming their worst nightmare. No one had survived.

JJ had hugged him tightly, sobbing slightly and he'd awkwardly tried to comfort her, not knowing what to do or say. All he seemed to be able to do was think it had to be some horrible mistake. He'd just seen Wright and Sable. He'd just talked to them. For God's sake, the case was over! They had solved it! How could they have died anyway?

He heard Morgan talking in a quiet, somber voice on the phone, relaying the tragic news to Garcia, who was still back in Quantico. He watched Gideon, standing with his back to them, staring at the destroyed building and the body bags with empty eyes and thought of how he'd never seen his mentor so incredibly broken. He saw Hotch talking on his own phone, probably to his wife and looked back at the zipped up bags containing the last lives Adrian Bale had claimed.

He hadn't known Sable or Wright for very long, but eight months working this job together had been more than enough to know exactly who they were. Good men. Heroes, trying to do what many would be unable to. Saving lives without any true caution for their own. And they were gone, taken to be tallied up with all the others who'd lost their lives to a coward with a bomb.

Standing there that day, the sky dark with ashes, the air dry and hot from the flames, chest aching from the grief and ears ringing from the blast, Reid decided that he wanted to be like Wright and Sable. He wanted to be that hero, willing and able to do whatever it took to save the innocent and stop the guilty. Even if it ended as tragically as they had, at least he would know that he had accomplished something truly great with his life.

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><p><strong>EN: Aw :'( I cried a bit writing this chapter. I know Wright and Sable didn't have very large parts, but I did enjoy their characters and writing Gideon in grief wasn't easy, I'll tell ya that much. I just wanted to sob my heart out.**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this! Please let me know what you think!**


	8. Phone Calls and Goodbyes

**A/N: So… Once again it's been far too long. Sorry. I've been caught up with school and other stories. There's really no excuse guys, but please forgive me.**

**And thanks so much to those wonderful reviews and readers. You guys are amazing.**

**This will be the end of Elle… Set pretty might right after the end of "Boogey Man". Sadly, I didn't write her before this though I wanted to…**

**If you tilt your head and squint you may see glimpses of Reid/Elle, but it's really just friendship in my head.**

**Now, onwards! :)**

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><p><strong>Phone Calls and Goodbyes<strong>

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><p>Reid looked around briefly as he stepped out of the cab in front of Elle's house. He chewed his lip and glanced at his watch. 11:54 p.m. and still no word from her. He'd been trying to call her all day. Twenty-three times to be exact. Ever since she hadn't shown up that morning. He'd called more frequently when Hotch announced to the team that she'd handed in her badge and gun.<p>

The news had hit the youngest member harder than he'd expected them to. Elle was probably one of the strongest people Reid had ever known. She'd faced UnSubs with a cool glint in his eye, matched Morgan's own determination and Hotch's steel. She was probably one of the best agents he'd ever known as well. She thought quick on her feet, never second guessed herself and didn't have a problem doing what needed to be done, yet here she was, running away.

Ever since she'd been shot, she'd been different. Not that Reid blamed her; he knew it must've been a terrifying experience for her to be attacked in her own home. But she was Elle. She was supposed to be able to pick the pieces up and put them back together. He'd expected her to be able to do that until that night when he'd found her drinking in her hotel room.

That was when he realized she needed someone to be there for her. Someone to talk to, who understood. And maybe he didn't really understand, but he tried to. He'd listened to her and tried to remind her that things get better. That she had won. But in her eyes he could see she wasn't hearing him at all.

He'd been worried about her ever since, seeing her going on a rapid downward spiral into near madness, but even through all that he hadn't expected her to run away.

Her house was dark as he made his way up the driveway. Her car was gone and all the curtains were pulled shut. Taking a deep breath, the young agent knocked on the door and stood back, hoping that perhaps she was still inside. Several minutes went by and he tried again, ringing the bell and pounding on the door. After fifteen long minutes, he knew she wasn't going to answer and sighed, shaking his head.

It was late, but he pulled out his cell phone anyway. He'd left twelve messages so far, but a thirteenth couldn't hurt. He just wanted to talk to her. Talk some sense into her. Convince her not to leave. He waited as the phone rang, listening for the now very familiar sound of Elle's pre-recorded message telling him to leave a message. Instead he heard this:

_"You're just not gonna give up, are you?"_

Blinking, somewhat confused and then indescribably happy, Reid smiled ruefully to himself. "No," he told her, "Not on you."

Her laugh was bitter and it made Reid's heartache to hear her make such a sound. _"So are you going to tell me not to go? That I'm making a huge mistake and I'll be missed?"_

Reid frowned, "You are," he said, "Elle, we're a team. A family. And the Elle I know wouldn't just turn her back on us and run away, because that would be that she's letting the UnSubs win and she's not like that. She's a fighter."

_"Yeah, well maybe I'm not as strong as you think, Reid._"

"Elle…" he sighed, "It's not too late. You can come back, we can help you get through this. You're part of this family."

Reid couldn't help but hate the way his voice broke. He'd waited so long, worked so hard to find that family he'd longed for and now it was being torn apart. He couldn't bear for that to happen, not without fighting back this time.

_"It is too late, Reid," _Elle sighed heavily. He could almost see her face, her eyes sad and distant as she shook her head. _"I'm already gone, just let me go in peace, ok? I can't do it anymore."_

"Can't do what?" Reid demanded.

_"… Pretend I'm alright when I'm not."_

"Elle –"

_"Reid stop," _she cut him off, _"It's too late now. I'm gone. And I'm not coming back. Not for you, or for Morgan or Hotch or JJ. None of them."_

"Please," he begged her, "Just give me a few days, don't go."

_"Thanks, Spencer."_

"What for?"

_"The memories."_

The line went dead and Reid stared down at the phone for a long time, feeling like he was teetering on the edge of tears. But he refused to cry. Taking a deep breath, he dialed her number again, crossing his fingers, silently begging her to answer.

_"Hi, you've reached Elle Greenaway. I'm not available to take your call right now. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

And for the first time in his life, Spencer Reid had the most intense, irrational urge to hit something. Angrily, he shoved the cell phone back into his pocket, and with one last, half-angry, half-devastated look at her house, he turned around and walked away, feeling as if a small part of him had just been shattered.

One horrible thought kept repeating in his mind… If Elle wasn't strong enough to handle this job, what hope could he possibly have of surviving?

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><p><strong>AN: Alright, more angst. Yay. A bit shorter than usually, sorry 'bout that. I kind of hated how Elle left and then it was really sort of never spoke of again. She's never been my favorite character, but she's still a member of the team and the way she left put way too many unanswered questions and possibilities out there for my liking. All angsty and sad with no real resolution.**

**Hope you enjoyed! Please review!**


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